


count the stars that are shining in your eyes

by neckwear



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/pseuds/neckwear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy had been insistent on regaining his ability to navigate by himself again, but Riza refuses to let him wander around alone. He may be stubborn but she is even more so, and he doesn't actually mind the company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	count the stars that are shining in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearxalchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/gifts).



> This is a really self indulgent fic i'm dedicating to my friend Ace, who gave me this prompt. I hope you enjoy! All mistakes are mine.

"Turn to the left up here, sir."

He turns too early and stubs his toe, eliciting a wince and a hiss as he tries not to curse. Riza tightens her grip on his arm, and apologizes for her unclearness. "But, really, sir, you shouldn't be up and about so soon."

Roy furrows his brow in frustration - Riza isn't sure if the look is for her comment or because of how useless he's felt the past few days, and no amount of studying with Breda and Fuery about what type of irrigation system Ishval specializes in can help with that. 

He isn't blind anymore - Marcoh has restored his sight after he gave Havoc the ability to walk again - but it didn't completely heal him and instead his vision is blurry, but he won't admit it. He's determined to leave the confines of his room even if he's still healing, though, and doesn't want a nurse with him, instead he requests that Riza lead him around and so she does. 

"I'm not in that bad of shape, am I?" he asks, trying to be lighthearted about his current state. He must be able to sense her uncomfortable look, because his smile dissipates and is replaced with a serious look. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Not perfect, sir," Riza points out, not sarcastically but with care. This doesn't draw any sort of reaction but he closes his eyes, letting her guide him, and she puts her other hand on his arm. Usually there are nurses on night shifts but they've figured out how to avoid their regular routes. This isn't the first time the two of them have snuck out of their hospital room - neither of them could sleep, she can't close her eyes or visions of what happened days before flash on her eyelids, and Roy has never been one to sleep very well as a result of overworking himself. 

The past few days, Roy had been insistent on regaining his ability to navigate by himself again, but Riza refuses to let him wander around alone. He may be stubborn but she is even more so, and he doesn't actually mind the company. 

"Perhaps you should look into wearing glasses," she suggests, to get a rise out of him. He scrunches his nose like he's smelt something bad and she smiles, looking at him. "It wouldn't look so bad."

"I can see just fine." The look on his face is so indignant that she doesn't want to respond, but she can't help herself. 

"Then why do I need to be guiding you around, sir?" she asks, and there's a hint of teasing in her voice. "And why do you never complain when I accompany you?"

They're in the middle of the hallway but he stops suddenly. Riza is standing next to the wall and when he turns to look at her, she feels a warm flush in her chest. She had missed the dark color of his eyes when he was blind, and never did get used to the haunting pale white his eyes took on. The color now is comforting, inky black, and though most of the lights are turned off the moon is peeking through the window of a door that's slightly open and it shades his face just so. Riza would think it unfairly handsome if it wasn't for the earnest look in his eyes. 

"It's good to see your face again," Roy tells her, and he says it so simply Riza is taken aback. She knows he means it, and even though he's standing a respectable distance away from her it feels like he's closer to her than he truly is. Roy lowers his voice. "It's good to know you're here."

Riza doesn't answer him. He is never this bold in public, but how he looks at her has always said enough. The two of them don't have a private relationship, although they had tried once but it didn't feel right, they were breaking the law and they knew it and couldn't shake the feeling. But now, something has changed between them and Riza isn't worried if anyone can hear them or is spying on them.

His hand moves to her neck, where the sword had sliced her skin just weeks before. The wrapped bandage had been removed and replaced with a patch over her scar, which is where he gently touched his fingers. Roy keeps his distance, which Riza appreciates, because of the flush coloring her cheeks. Her hair is down and he presses a lock between his fingers, feeling the downy hair. 

She knows his sight is awful from far away but that it's only fuzzy up close, so she takes his hand in hers and leads it to her cheek, her calloused palm on top of his own charred, bandaged one. "You don't have to see me," she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, "to know that I'm by your side."

Roy gives her a perplexed look - she's never this sentimental, and whenever she is it surprises him - before he smiles, softly, and there's a nervous sensation in the pit of Riza's stomach. They haven't kissed in years but she feels like he might try now, and if anyone caught them their entire careers would be jeopardized. 

But that doesn't mean she doesn't want to. 

The way he's looking at her with complete devotion makes her anxious and giddy and she wants nothing more than to close the gap between them, but she knows it's wrong. It always will be, he may have his sight restored but really he shouldn't even be touching her cheek and running his thumb over her skin like he is now. She thinks she's just sleep deprived, really, and tries to be sensible. 

Before she can open her mouth to tell him to take his hand off of her face, he leans forward to place a chaste kiss to her forehead. His lips are chapped but that's okay, Riza had nearly forgotten how warm he is and it rocks her to her core. She wonders for a moment, dazedly, why he always stole the covers when they were teenagers. 

Roy moves away from her forehead, and she misses the heat. Riza takes a deep breath and gathers her resolve. "You need to sleep, sir."

The appearance of titles very clearly makes Roy deflate a bit, but then his hand slides down to the column of her neck, gently touching her, almost hovering. "Really," he grins appreciatively, "what would I do without you?"

"I'd hate to imagine that," she jokes, and he chuckles, a little hushed noise. It makes her smile and the scene feels all too domestic, and she reminds herself they're in a hospital and not a private space. "But, really, we should head back before someone comes along."

He nods and his hand lingers before he moves it down, and she misses the warmth already. Roy shifts so he's holding his arm out with a grin, and Riza sighs and wraps her arm around his, her hand on his bicep. If anyone asks, she'll tell them this is the best way to help him around, and really, would anyone try to deprive these two war heroes of something so simple?

They've walked a good distance from their room, and at some point Riza has closed her eyes and leaned her head against his arm. She knows he doesn't need guidance because he walks just fine, even without her showing him where to go and there's a flush in her chest that confirms that he really just wants to be alone with her. 

When they get to their room, it's completely dark except for the lights outside the room. She closes the door and helps him to his bed - he is still disoriented, his eyes got used to the darkness just to have it change again. 

"Can you see?" Riza asks. She holds out her hands for him. "Come on, I won't let you fall." Roy grabs for her hands and they find her forearms, gripping tight. She helps ease him onto the bed, and when she lets go, his hands remain longer than they really should. 

She ignores the tension between them, or the fact that she wants to sit on the side of the bed next to him or that he seemingly wants the same thing. Instead, she dismisses that things have shifted between them and and before she can move to her own bed, Roy catches her arm, somehow gently.

She looks down at him, an eyebrow raised. It looks like he wants to say thousands of things at once, but can't decide. The two of them have never been open and she waits for him to speak, not saying a word. 

"Good night, Riza," is all he says. 

Hearing her name on his lips makes her heart stop in her chest for a fraction of a second. It's such a rare thing and she has to close her eyes and nods. "Good night," she responds, and reluctantly detaches herself from him.

Riza hasn't slept well in two weeks, on account of the nightmares that will always wake her up in a cold sweat without fail, her breath racing. However, when she climbs into bed, and hears Roy's breathing even out, she's able to close her eyes and soon drift off to sleep, for the first time in days.


End file.
